Matt lifted his hips to unzip his damp jeans, pushing the wet fabric down his legs. “I’m sure there’s a compliment in there somewhere.”
“There definitely is. Would it sound corny if I said goose bumps look good on you?”
“Yes.” Matt stepped into the heavy sweatpants. “Are you going to change?”
“Yeah.”
“Any time soon?”
“Yeah.”
“Sometime today?”
Kiernan nodded again, but instead of removing his jacket, he smoothly climbed into the back seat and straddled Matt’s lap.
Matt looked at him in exasperation. “You really like that maneuver,” he said dryly.
Kiernan grinned. “Works for a guy my size.” He leaned in. “You complaining?”
“Kiernan, I don’t…” Matt started, but that was as far as he got.
Kiernan pressed his mouth over Matt’s, reducing his words to a sputter as he sent his mobile tongue forward. It took Matt a moment to catch up, but only a moment. The press of Kiernan’s body, the feel of his gloved hands, sent a shaft of desire through him. He gripped the strands of Kiernan’s thick hair and returned the kiss with equal intensity. Kiernan trailed one hand down over Matt’s bare chest, rubbing his fingers over his cold, taut nipples, and the supple leather against his skin made gooseflesh break out down Matt’s arms.
The rush from their narrow escape translated quickly into a rush of heat, and the hand not tangled in Kiernan’s hair slid up his thigh and around to grip his ass. He could easily become an adrenaline junkie, particularly with Kiernan around. The lithe body on top of him pressed closer, groin to groin, and Matt could feel Kiernan’s burgeoning hardness through the thin material of the soft sweatpants.
Kiernan pulled back from the kiss, his mouth moving to hover over Matt’s ear. The hot rush of his breath sent a jolt of want straight to Matt’s cock.
“Have you any idea,” Kiernan whispered, “how fucking hot you are when you’re in cop mode?”
Matt groaned as Kiernan rolled his pelvis against him. “Cop mode?” he managed.
“You know.” Kiernan swirled his tongue in his ear. Matt closed his eyes on the resulting rush of heat. “All steely-eyed and hard-jawed, your gun in your hand.” He nipped lightly at his lobe, and Matt’s hips jerked up. “You have no idea how much I wanted to lie on the leather couch in that media room and invite you to have your wicked way with me.” His hand moved down Matt’s stomach, caressing his abs.
“That would have been a very bad idea.” Matt couldn’t help but press up into Kiernan’s touch.
“Maybe, but it would have been hot.” Kiernan let his hand drift lower, feather light touch skimming the front of his sweatpants. “You take my breath. Did you know that?”
Matt bit his lip and shook his head.
Kiernan leaned back enough to look into his eyes. “You’re a beautiful man, Matthew Bennett,” he said, his voice soft but intense as he stroked him more firmly. “And someone should tell you that, every day for the rest of your life.”
Matt’s heart swelled and his throat thickened, and when Kiernan kissed him again, Matt clutched him, arched up and turned them, pushing Kiernan down onto his back on the seat. Kiernan spread his legs, tacitly inviting Matt into the resulting space between his thighs. Without conscious thought, Matt lifted Kiernan’s knee and pushed it toward his chest, and kissed him with every ounce of passion he possessed.
He felt so alive, more alive than he’d felt in over a year. But it was more than just desire. He not only wanted Kiernan, he was becoming more and more certain he needed him, like he needed air.
The thought didn’t frighten him at all.
Matt reached down to palm the hardness straining the fly of Kiernan’s jeans, and his hips jerked up.
The sound of a car door slamming was as sharp as a gunshot in the silence, and it was like a bucket of cold water being thrown on him. Matt’s head jerked up, his heart leaping into his throat. In the driveway of the house across the street, taillights flared. A Toyota backed out and drove away.
Matt exhaled heavily, his head dropping to press against Kiernan’s sternum.
“Much as I hate to say it—” he said, sounding very reasonable for a man with a hard-on, “—this really isn’t the time, or the place.” He leaned back and pulled Kiernan into a sitting position.
“Yeah,” Kiernan grumbled, looking disgruntled as he adjusted himself inside his jeans. “Someday I am going to convince you we can fuck in this thing.”
“Maybe so, but not tonight.” Matt tugged on the front of Kiernan’s coat. “Change your shirt. It’s soaked.”
“Fine, killjoy.” Kiernan pulled off the coat in question. “I was enjoying that.”
“So was I.” Matt leaned in for a fleeting kiss to pouting lips. “We can do more of it later, when we’re warm. I’d think you’d enjoy not getting pneumonia more.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll give you that.”
Matt strapped his holster over his bare chest, then pulled on the lumpy hoodie and zipped it up. He bent at the waist to pull on dry socks when Kiernan made a soft, startled sound.
“I completely forgot about this.” He was holding a lumpy manila envelope in his hands.
Matt’s mouth fell open. “Where was that?”
“I tucked it up under my shirt when I heard the housekeeper get back.” Kiernan grinned triumphantly.
“You stole it?”
“Well, I didn’t think breaking into someone’s house would be complete without stealing something,” he said lightly. “I’m kidding, Matt. Lighten up. Actually, I grabbed it instinctively and then forgot about it.” He pried open the brads with his thumb and lifted the flap. When he turned the envelope over, a small roll of dark fabric slid out into his hands.
“Looks like a scarf. It’s been tied with a knot.”
“Yeah, it has.” Matt leaned closer.
Kiernan ran the fabric through his gloved fingers. He held it up so he could examine it more closely in what light there was. “Weird thing to hide like that.”
“Yeah. Think it’s another of Karen’s?”
“Possibly.” A frown deepening between his black brows, Kiernan examined the knot and caught his breath, his fingers stilling on it.
“What is it?”
Kiernan swallowed heavily. “Remember,” he said, his voice unsteady, “when you said Preston was the kind of guy who kept trophies?” He held the scarf higher, his fingers lifting something hanging from the knot that looked like a few strands of curling gossamer monofilament.
Matt realized what he was looking at, and his stomach turned. “Christ,” he wheezed, feeling even colder than he had when lying in the snow. “That’s Abby’s hair.”
“This is what he used to cover her eyes. The son of a bitch did keep it as a memento.”
“You said there was a scarf.” That made two things Kiernan had known the police hadn’t—the butterscotch candy and the scarf. “Put it back in the envelope. It’s good you haven’t handled it without your gloves. We can get it to Ed, and he can get it to the crime lab. They can do a DNA match on the hair and prove it’s Abby’s.”
Kiernan returned the scarf to the envelope and put it on the seat between them. “And how are you going to explain to him how you came to be in possession of it?”
“No clue,” Matt said. “I’ll worry about it when we get to it. Change your shirt, and then let’s figure out what our next move is.”
Kiernan unbuttoned his shirt. Matt’s phone rang, and he cursed as he rummaged through the clothes on the floor searching for it. He finally found it in the back pocket of his jeans, and slapped it open.
“Hey, Sheila.”
“Do not ‘Hey, Sheila’, me,” she said, her voice harsh and tinny through the phone. “Would you care
to explain to me exactly why the police were just at my house?”
Matt had been running his fingers through his tousled hair, and stopped with his hand still in the damp curls. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” His hand dropped into his lap and he closed his eyes. “I should have warned you that might happen.”
“It would have been nice. I got home from work, and they were standing on my porch. They were looking for you. And they seized Kyle’s laptop.”
“They took Kyle’s computer,” Matt said wearily to Kiernan. “Sheila, were these detectives, or uniforms?”
“Two detectives,” she answered. “I think I recognized one of them. You work with him.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Conrad, I think.”
Matt closed his eyes, his mouth tightening. That made perfect sense. Dale Conrad hated him. He’d bet money the other man with him had been his rookie partner, Steve Irvine. “Was the other one blond, about six-two, on the young side?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“What’s going on, Matt?” Sheila asked, her voice dropping.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I’d tell you if I could…”
“I know it’s about Abby Reynolds’ murder. And they were asking about Kiernan, too.”
“What did they want to know?” he asked, his voice taut.
“Only if I knew where he was. They were pretty menacing.”
“Are you all right? They didn’t…”
“No, I’m fine. Just worried about you.” Her tone turned wry. “And you get to replace Kyle’s computer.”
Matt snorted out a strained laugh. “I’ll let him pick it out.”
Sheila huffed. “You’ll do no such thing. He’ll want some monster gaming system, and I’ll never get the child to do homework again.”
In spite of himself, Matt smiled. “Spoilsport.”
“It’s a mother’s job. Where are you?”
“It’s probably better if I don’t tell you. At least if anyone else asks, you can say you don’t know and it will be the truth.”
“Matt, this is starting to frighten me. Those men did not look like they were playing around. What in the world have you done that could cause them to come here looking for you?”
He didn’t answer. What could he say that wouldn’t compromise her? Or put the entire family in danger?
“It’s going to be all right,” he said, even though he wasn’t certain of it. “When I can tell you what’s going on, I will.”
“I hate when you do that. This whole need-to-know crap…” She went on, but Matt stopping paying attention when Kiernan gasped, the T-shirt still bunched in his hands where he’d been lowering it over his head, staring wide-eyed through the back window of the Bronco.
“I have to go, Sheila,” Matt said. The air in the car began to feel thick and filled with static electricity. He swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat and hesitantly turned to follow the direction of Kiernan’s gaze.
It was a relief when he didn’t see anything but the snowy street behind them. But clearly, Kiernan did.
“What do you mean, you have to go?” Sheila was saying. “Matt, I need to know what’s going on!”
“And I swear to God, the minute I can tell you, I will. But for now, you have to trust me. I’ll call again when I can.” He flipped his phone closed, his eyes never leaving Kiernan’s pale face. “What is it?”
Kiernan blinked and looked at Matt. “We have to go,” he said, his voice rushed. “We have to go now.”
“Where?”
“The Reynolds’. Abby just told me. He’s there, Matt. He just got there, to the house.”
Matt stiffened. “Preston did?”
Kiernan nodded. “And Karen’s alone.”
Chapter Seventeen
“So, how are we going to get in?”
“Through the front gate.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Matt drove around a corner and swerved to avoid a car stranded in the deep snow.
“But then there won’t be any element of surprise.”
“We don’t need the element of surprise. We need to get in there as quickly as possible.”
Kiernan’s hand clutched the dashboard. “You think she’s in danger, then.”
“I think she’s in a very dicey situation, yes.” His jaw tightened as the back wheels on the car fishtailed. He gripped the wheel hard and got it under control.
“If he’s there, do you think she’ll answer the intercom at the gate?” Kiernan’s voice sounded as tense as Matt felt.
“If she doesn’t, then I drive through the goddamned thing.”
They didn’t speak again during the short trip to the Reynolds’ faux Tudor mansion. Relieved to see the media had abandoned their vigil in front of the house, probably in favor of sitting in front of his own, Matt pulled to stop at the towering gates. He rolled down the window and hit the button on top of the inset intercom system.
They waited for quite a while for it to be answered. Matt even sent Kiernan a resolute look and was reaching for the gear shift when Karen’s voice came to them from the speaker.
“Yes?”
“Karen?”
“Yes. Who’s there?”
“Karen, it’s Matt Bennett. I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment.”
There was a pause. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea, Detective.” She sounded nervous.
“I won’t take much of your time,” Matt persisted. “It really is quite important, or I wouldn’t be here at this time of night.”
There was another pause and then slowly, the massive gates creaked open.
“She sounded frightened,” Kiernan said, leaning forward in his seat as Matt followed the curve of the drive.
“Yeah, she did.” He pulled up in front of the house and parked the car in the empty drive.
“Where’s his car?”
“It could be around back. We don’t dare go looking for it, in case he’s watching out a window.”
“So, what do we do?”
Matt turned off the ignition, his eyes on the front of the house. Large carriage lamps bathed the massive doors in a golden glow. “We’ll take our cue from her. If she seems all right, we’ll calmly try to talk our way in through the door. If she doesn’t…” He exhaled heavily. “Well, we’ll figure it out when we get there.” He turned to Kiernan, his eyes intent on the handsome face. “But whatever happens, you stay behind me, do you understand?”
“Matthew.”
“No, no ‘Matthew,’” he insisted. “You promise me you’ll stay behind me, or your ass stays in the car. Got me?”
Kiernan inhaled as if he wanted to speak, but ultimately he merely nodded.
“All right, then. Let’s do this.”
They walked with studied casualness up the four wide brick steps. Matt gave Kiernan a stern look, and Kiernan dutifully took a step back and slightly behind him before Matt rang the bell. They heard it echo through the cavernous house.
It took Karen a long time to reach the door. Finally the sound of the dead bolt being opened came through the thick wood, and the door opened about six inches, halted by a sturdy chain.
Karen’s hazel eyes appeared, her pupils hugely dilated. “Hello, Detective,” she said, her voice breathy. “How can I help you?”
“May we come in? We’d like to speak with you.”
Karen blinked rapidly and Matt thought she darted a look to the side. “That’s…it’s not really a good time,” she said quickly, hazel eyes swiveling back to his. “I’m not feeling well.”
“That’s not surprising,” Kiernan said kindly, taking a step to Matt’s side. Matt had to fight the urge to grab him
and shove him back. “You’ve been under a tremendous amount of stress. I’d be surprised if you weren’t feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps if we come in for a few minutes, we could talk about it.”
There was no mistaking it now. Her eyes definitely darted to the right.
“I…no. No. I don’t want to speak with you about anything.”
Matt was positive Preston was probably standing right behind her. He caught her eye, and pointed at his lips. She blinked. “Preston?” he mouthed.
She dampened her lips and dipped her chin an infinitesimal fraction of an inch.
Matt took a step to the side, away from the open door, and reached up to unzip his hoodie to mid-chest.
“But I thought you trusted me, Karen,” Kiernan went on, glancing meaningfully at Matt. “I’d merely like to help you see everything is going to be all right.”
Matt reached inside the fleece jacket and unhooked the leather strap holding his gun in place.
“Well, while I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Karen said, her eyes wide as she watched Matt slowly withdraw his weapon. “I really am feeling quite unwell, and I would appreciate it if you’d just go now.”
“I promise, we won’t take more than five minutes of your time.” Matt slipped the hand with the gun in it behind his back.
“I…I really can’t. Please, just go away.” Her eyes implored them. She was trembling. “Please.”
There was no way in hell he was leaving her alone in there with him.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He reached out and shoved his free hand against the wooden door.
From somewhere behind Karen came the sound of a furious snarl. She shrieked as she was suddenly thrust to one side, and someone tried to slam the door. Matt managed to get his shoulder wedged against it and blocked it from being closed, but the force from the other side was equal to his, and he couldn’t push it open. Not until Kiernan put his shoulder into it and shoved on the door with him. After a pitched battle it finally burst open, crashing loudly against the inside wall and causing both of them to stagger. Matt straightened in time to see Karen being dragged around the corner into the darkened living room.
A Reason to Believe Page 25
